Shortcakes
by KivaEmber
Summary: Fluffy oneshot series. 7th Shortcake: Sleep: L had always seemed oddly awkward when ‘sleeping’. LxRaitoxL
1. Cream

**Title: **Shortcakes

**Pairing: **LxRaito

**Rating: **T+ (may rise later on)

**Disclaimer: **Nope…sure wish I did though!

**Warnings: **Slight OOC, spoilers for L's real name, crack, attempted humour, shonen ai, yaoi, cakes and much, much more.

**Summary:** Fluffy oneshot series. 1st oneshot: Cream. There was a perfectly good reason why L was staring at Raito… LxRaito.

**Length: 687 **words

**A/N: **Wooo! Insanity and crack galore!

Alright, updates will be erratic, since I'm juggling between **Dysfunctional Camaraderie, Immaculate**, **Reveille **and **Urahara's Delivery Service**. Yeah, quite a lot of work, ne? But with my awesome Beta poking me, I'll try to update as quick as possible.

This is my little deposit of fluffy LxRaito oneshots during the Yotsuba arc. They _could_ be in chronological order, but don't try to keep them in a linear timeline. I always like fluffy LxRaito ficcies, so this is my outlet to write 'em out.

Plot bunnies will be welcomed, so gimme ideas for cute, fluffy oneshots!

Enjoy!

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"_No! You just taught him to associate sex with pie!"_

_-- Charlie, Two and a Half Men_

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**1****st**** SHORTCAKE: CREAM**

L _stared_.

Now then, there was a perfectly good reason as to why L was staring at his suspect with such intensity, obsidian eyes wide and impregnable as the teen shifted uncomfortably occasionally, sepia eyes sliding to meet his unyielding gaze briefly to snap back to the documents in tanned hands. L ignored his laptop, ignored the pointed looks the Task Force exchanged (and pitying ones to a red faced Soichiro) and ignored the slice of strawberry gateau beside said laptop. He just stared at Raito.

Raito stared at his documents.

Matsuda was blissfully oblivious to the tension and effectively broke it when he accidentally knocked over his cup of tea onto his lap. The resulting confusion of the young police officer leaping out of his seat, squawking '_hot hot hot hot hoooot' _and performing some strange rain dance distracted the Task Force members to the point where no one noticed L's change in seating.

Aside from Raito.

As the Task Force fussed over the scalded officer, trying to tell Matsuda to take off his pants without sounding suggestive in the least (and failing miserably), Raito turned his head slowly, jerking back briefly as wide eyes stared a mere _centimetre_ from his face. To the teen's horror, warmth crept up his neck along his cheeks, sure that his face was beginning to resemble that of tomato. He beat down the blush viciously and cleared his throat. "Erhm…L?"

"Yes, Raito-kun?" Came the bland reply.

"What…what are you doing?" Raito asked tightly, sepia eyes breaking off the staring contest when he felt the detective's _hand_ on his _thigh_! _What was he __**doing**_!? _His __**hand**__ was on his __**thigh**_!! _Right near his __**crotch**_!!

"I think it is obvious to Raito-kun what I am doing." The hand slid up slightly.

Raito's brain was going to overload. "Not…really…" He forced out, staring at the pale hand resting comfortably on the juncture between his leg and hip, fingertips brushing against the coarse fabric covering his groin. L was simply using his leg for leverage, he thought frantically as he ignored their extremely close proximity. The detective was so socially retarded he didn't know what his actions were doing! Damn L! Damn him to Hell!

Then he felt _it_. A warm, wet muscle lapping at the corner of his mouth slowly, languidly, and utterly _sensual_ as Raito momentarily forgot how to breathe, sepia eyes snapping back to half lidded obsidian ones. The tongue lingered, the very tip pressed against the teen's warm skin before returning back into the insomniac's mouth, L looking completely satisfied.

Raito didn't move a muscle as L moved back to his peculiar crouch on the other side of the couch, attacking his strawberry gateau with vigour and unashamed at what he had just done. _Was…was L coming onto me?_ Raito thought distantly. Though, usually, people would just give a sultry remark or a quick kiss if they were flirting, not, not _licking_ them.

But this _was_ L…maybe he _was_ coming onto him! Maybe, being handcuffed to him after all these weeks had finally gotten to the insomniac! Or maybe…Misa was right and L _was_ a dirty pervert! After all, who'd want to be handcuffed to their suspect for 24/7 if not to perv on them while they sleep and…and _shower_!

But then L turned back to him, face carefully blank but a certain edge of _mischief_ in those wide, obsidian orbs. "Raito-kun had some cream on his cheek."

Raito deadpanned, eyebrow twitching violently. Cream…? He did remember eating a small bit of apple pie with cream half an hour ago but he was _sure_ he had wiped his mouth clean! He didn't know what irritated him more, sitting down with cream on his cheek, or L licking said cream off his cheek! "Ryuuzaki…" He growled lowly, the urge to strangle the detective with the chain between them rising quickly. "Why didn't you just point it out instead of _licking_ me!?"

L just blinked. "Why waste good cream?"

The Task Force decided not to intervene when Raito slammed the rest of the strawberry gateau onto L's face after they returned from replacing Matsuda's pants.

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**A/N: **I think I'll just develop their relationship to something more using little anecdotes like this one…eheheh…I can totally imagine Raito smacking a cake in L's face.

Though I think I'll make the next oneshot longer…

Ideas welcome!


	2. Food Fight

**Title: **Shortcakes

**Pairing: **LxRaito

**Rating: **K+

**Disclaimer: **Nope. I don't even own caaaaake…

**Summary: Fluffy oneshot series. 2nd oneshot: Food fight. Revenge was sweet in more ways then one. LxRaito.**

**A/N: **Food is a dangerous weapon.

Hope y'all enjoy! And thanks for reviewing!

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"_That idea may be crazy enough…TO GET US ALL KILLED!!"_

_-- Squidward, Spongebob Squarepants_

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**2****nd**** SHORTCAKE: FOOD FIGHT**

L knew he was a childish man.

This was why after wiping off the remains of his wasted strawberry gateau from his face, the insomniac attempted to plan a suitable scheme of VENGENCE for the past two days. He wasn't quite sure what had gotten the teen so wound up that he'd retaliate in such a rash manner, after all, that slight smudge of cream had been taunting him and he assured his suspect that his actions were completely innocent.

L paused, wide obsidian eyes sliding to the side to observe Raito discreetly. Unless…Raito expected something more…?

He immediately discarded that idea. There wouldn't be a chance of Raito, perfect student/son/person, having any semblance of desire for the social recluse that was L, weirdo extraordinaire. Quite possibly the teen was irritated at having his already limited personal space invaded even further.

But still…that didn't warrant in Raito smashing his strawberry gateau in his face and making most of it fall on the floor.

Damn Watari and his rule against eating off the floor!

Wasting L's cake was _verboten_! And deserved the proper Justice! Also, it increased Raito's percentage by five per cent, for it could've been an attempt to deprive his brain of its main source of energy and slow down the investigation (he ignored the small voice in the back of his head that sounded suspiciously like Raito scoffing at him contemptuously for being 'paranoid' – L increased the percentage by another five for infiltration of his subconscious)!

Sepia eyes met his side long glance curiously.

"What?" Raito snapped. "Do I have more 'cream' on my face?"

L just got a wonderful idea on how to get his revenge. "No…" He deliberately trailed his sentence off, intensifying his stare and watching as his suspect squirmed uncomfortably. "Not yet."

Wasting food, especially cake, was blasphemy in L's opinion, but sacrifices had to be made in the name of Justice, and it wasn't like he couldn't simply eat it afterwards. So when Raito's eyebrows drew together in confusion, delectable looking pink lips parting to ask what he meant, L struck with the speed of a striking snake.

In retrospect, L guessed that it was good that Raito's overprotective; bear like father wasn't here to witness this incredibly childish event, sure that the police officer would be utterly aghast. But even if Yagami-san was there, it wouldn't have even dulled the vindictive pleasure that L gained when his chocolate gateau collided against Raito's handsome face with a satisfying _splat_.

The silence afterwards was deafening.

The plate slid from the spongy mass and onto his suspect's lap, half of the cake following after. Slowly, with eerie calm, Raito lifted his hands and carefully wiped the thick sludge of chocolate from his eyes, blank sepia orbs staring uncomprehendingly as he scraped the remaining chocolate frosting and sponge from his skin.

L's lips twitched rebelliously, the urge to grin wildly almost overpowering his stone mask. The normally composed Yagami Raito looked _hilarious_, chocolate frosting smeared over his lightly tanned skin and clumping auburn strands of hair together against his forehead. The teen flicked his hands violently, flecks of crumbs and frosting spattering onto his ruined jeans and the couch's pillows. "Ryuuzaki…" He murmured, voice tightly controlled.

"Yes, Raito-kun?" L asked, not bothering to hide his amusement in his voice.

Raito scooped up a handful of frosting and clumps of sponge and snapped his hand out violently, the mass of chocolate smacking L on the forehead and his ebony hair. "You've got cake in your hair." He smirked, sepia eyes glittering with challenge.

L narrowed his wide eyes into a playful glare. "Why, so I do…" The detective scraped the clump from his hair, tossing it back and blinking as the teen ducked under the cake. The clump of crumbs and frosting sailed through the air and landed against the far wall, the insomniac noting how it looked like spattered faeces. "Oh…"

Raito snorted. "Great aim, Ryuuzaki." He threw another handful at the detective, grumbling when L smoothly rolled out of his seat and allowing the cake to splatter the armchair he was previously occupying. "Dammit."

L decided that offence was the best defence and lunged forwards, catching Raito in an awkward tackle and feeling the cake on the teen's lap coat across his white sweater. The plate between slid to the floor and shattered, but neither of them paid heed to the noise, wrestling and smearing chocolate frosting on each other. L could feel a thrill rushing through his veins as his suspect squawked indignantly and retaliated with shoving a particularly large clump down his sweater.

He was actually having _fun_. No thoughts about the Kira case, no calculations on how the teen's actions would increase or decrease his chances of being the psychic killer or anything really. All he could think of was how _close_ Raito was and that he was going to _win_ this food fight!

After falling off the couch and rolling about on the floor (leaving a trail of chocolate and sponge in their wake), they came to a reluctant truce from near the coffee table, sprawled over each other and panting.

L stared at the underside of the coffee table, feeling the comfortable weight of his suspect on his chest and the not-so-comfortable feeling of cool, sticky chocolate frosting all over his skin and clothes. Despite the struggle, he felt relaxed and calmed, an odd scent underlying the chocolate soothing.

Huh. Raito smelled like cinnamon.

Raito pushed himself off of the detective, looking delightfully dishevelled from the impromptu cake fight. "We look like a right state." The teen huffed, his irritation belied by the amusement in sepia eyes. "I'm guessing this was revenge?"

"Raito-kun is correct in that assumption." L agreed, not moving from his sprawl on the floor. "He wasted my cake."

Raito gave the insomniac a flat look, glancing down between them.

"This does not count." L muttered, thumb drifting to his mouth. He blinked at feeling frosting on the pad and immediately sucked the appendage, not caring how juvenile he looked. It would be hard, but he could probably eat the frosting off him.

Raito had other ideas. "We're going for a shower." He commanded, unwrapping the chain that got tangled up in the wrestling from his thigh and arm and giving it a tug. "I'm not walking around smelling like Wonka's chocolate factory all day."

"Night." L corrected absently, grunting when he was pulled to his feet.

"Whatever." Narrowing his eyes suddenly, Raito pointed at the insomniac before he frogmarched him to the bathroom. "And you can't use this as an excuse to lick me again!"

Heh. Yeah right. "But Raito-kun looks very appetising at the moment."

"Ugh. Misa was right. You _are_ a pervert."

"I did not mean it in a sexual manner; it is just that the chocolate on Raito-kun's skin is calling to me."

"Don't you dare!"

Revenge was sweet, in more ways then one.

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**A/N:** Aaaaaaaaah…done XD

I always wanted to do a food fight one…and now I've done one! Mmm, you can assume that L got a few gropes in under the pretence of wrestling if you want 8D L you sneaky minx, you!

Ideas are welcome! And I hope y'all enjoyed!

(Told ya this one would be longer!)


	3. Sickness

**Title: **Shortcakes

**Pairing: **LxRaito

**Rating: **K+

**Disclaimer: **Nuh uh.

**Summary: **Fluffy oneshot series. 3rd Oneshot: Sickness. "Why are Ryuuzaki and Raito taking so long in the bathroom?" LxRaitoxL.

**Word Count: **2'690

**A/N: **Ahaha, the cliché of the clichés!

This is much longer, and a bit more friendshippy then the past two. Either way, there are some fluffy RaitoxL elements in this.

Yeah, I needed one of these thrown in here, because it is the fluffiest of the fluff. This doesn't slot in with the past two, but I did say that not all of them will be chronologically joined, or directly related with each other, so…here we are! Sick!L and pseudo-nurse!Raito!

Please note this was written at night when I was running on nothing but the caffeine that is my blood…and my whole horde of sugary foods and chocolate dip ¬.¬;

Enjoy!

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"_First Law of Temporal Mortality: 'Good Guys' and 'Bad Guys' both die in one of two ways. Either so quick they don't even see it coming, OR it's a long drawn out affair where the character gains much insight to the workings of society, human existence or why the toast always lands butter side down."_

_-- The Forty Six Laws of Anime, Darrin Bright & Ryan Shellito_

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**3****rd**** SHORTCAKE: SICKNESS**

L knew that there was something wrong when just looking at his cake made him feel queasy.

He had been feeling somewhat off that day. That morning, his usual half hour power nap had been increased to _two_ hours, and even with the extra sleep, the insomniac had felt incredibly lethargic. Raito had even commented on it, the suspect squinting at him suspiciously when he waved away the light concern. It was probably fatigue from the case catching up, though it rarely happened to him. So, L was not at all worried. Just irritated.

His irritation only grew as the Task Force trickled into the investigation room, when a pounding headache began chiselling at the insides of his temples with blunt pick axes and caused the tiny black print on his laptop to blur at the most inconvenient times. Once again, probably fatigue and not entirely uncommon. He was probably getting the early symptoms of a cold and made a mental note to tell Watari to get some over the counter medication.

Then, just before his early morning cake was wheeled in, his stomach gave a very violent lurch.

As he was wedged into his usual seat, face hidden behind the monitor of his screen, and the other occupants were more focused on their own work, no one noticed the detective' pale face gain a slight green tint, lips pursing as he forced down the reflexive urge to gag. He regained his composure relatively quickly, pressing his thumb against his lips in agitation as he re-evaluated his health.

So perhaps it _wasn't_ just fatigue or a cold.

Then Watari entered, placing his cake beside his laptop with his usual silent manner. It was a lovely cake too, a strawberry and cream cheesecake with an actual sugar glazed strawberry on top with a gracious amount of whipped cream slathered on top. Usually, L would attack his cake with vigour, savouring every bite while he thought up of new ways to trick Raito into admitting he was Kira, or calculating percentages.

Instead, all he could think about was that the sickly sweet aroma of his cake was making his stomach do Olympic style gymnastics.

"Hey…Ryuuzaki…" Raito whispered from behind his document, the concern shimmering in his sepia eyes. "Are you sure you're okay? You haven't touched your cake." The younger male shuffled down the couch until he was pressed against the arm, leaning over slightly and somehow managing to look inconspicuous to the other detectives in the room. "Are you sick?"

L turned wide, dull eyes to his suspect, blinking slowly as his headache's intensity increased. "Raito-kun has no need to be concerned. I am fine." And the he turned back to his laptop, curling his legs closer to his body as his stomach lurched once more, the detective actually tasting bile on his tongue. He steeled himself, gritting his teeth as he forced down the wave of nausea. He couldn't be sick.

L was Justice. And Justice did not have sick days.

Though, L winced when he almost gagged again, maybe Justice could have a quick break.

Raito could obviously read the danger signs (a green tinged detective looking ready to eject the contents of his stomach all over the floor was a particularly _big_ danger sign) and, knowing that L's stubbornness would not allow him to do anything about it, decided to take matters into his own hands. "Ryuuzaki." He said politely, drawing the dull eyed insomniac's attention to him once more. "I need to go to the toilet."

L would usually make a snide remark, and add on an extra per cent to his already unknown percentage (Raito seriously did not know what his percentage was now, it fluctuated so rapidly that he doubted even L knew what it was), but instead the detective simply nodded, sliding from his seat and shuffling stiffly towards the bathroom, one arm curled unnoticeably round his torso.

Raito kept a close eye on the older man he was shackled too, noting how he seemed to shuffle slower then usual and the dark bags under his eyes seemed to have achieved the impossible and darken even more – that, or his pale skin had turned a sickly grey making it seem worse the usual. It was obvious that L was ill, hell, Raito was amazed no one else had noticed, but the insomniac's stupid stubbornness was stopping him from announcing this fact.

It was probably all that sugar he consumed mixed with lack of sleep that was the cause of his lapse of judgement.

They had reached the toilet without incident, Raito pushing the door open while still keeping an eye on the queasy looking detective, watching the muscles in the older man's neck flex as L fought against the natural reaction to retch. The two entered the bathroom, the younger male not moving to use the urinal or the toilet and simply stared at the insomniac.

L glared, feeling his nerves beginning to fray from the constant torture of nausea and pain mixing in a lovely cocktail of crappiness. He was not in the mood to play the customary mind games with his suspect and simply wanted to curl up in a corner and die (but, of course, he couldn't do that because he was L and L was Justice, so he had to grit his teeth and bear it). "Well? Is Raito-kun going to use the bathroom's facilities or not?"

"Actually, I'm waiting for you to use them first, Ryuuzaki." Raito instantly retaliated, crossing his arms and returning the glare sternly.

"I do not need-" Here, L had to give a small pause as his stomach flailed violently once more. "-n-need to empty my bladder."

"No." Raito agreed, tugging on the chain between them. "You need to empty your stomach contents into the toilet before you throw up in the middle of the investigation room and embarrass yourself." Seeing that the detective's stubborn glare wasn't relenting, the younger male decided to force him. "I mean, it would be pretty disgusting. You vomiting up half digested substances mixed with sickly yellow bile…"

L's stomach gurgled warningly at the imagery from Raito's words, his hand flying involuntarily to his mouth. "Raito-kun…" He groaned.

"But fine, if you want to go back in there and make yourself barf by eating your heavily frosted cake saturated in sugar, thick and extremely sweet…"

Now hunger was making his stomach clench as well as flip, L unable to hold back the gag. "R-Raito…" He couldn't throw up in front of his main suspect! No matter what sense of friendship (_affection_) he was starting to feel for the boy, blatantly displaying his weakness was a bad move. "St-stop…"

"And the smell of it too! No matter how much cleaning products you use, the bitter sour smell is always strong enough that you can practically taste it. But whatever, you can go and throw up all over the wo-"

L couldn't hold it in any longer.

He fiercely shoved the younger male out of the way and dove for the toilet (almost tripping over the chain between them in the process), not caring at all if he looked weak or pathetic or whatever. All he cared about was getting rid of the rebellious stomach acids from his gut and possibly passing out for a while as his headache reached epic proportions. All dignity as L, the world's greatest detective, was heartily thrown out of the window.

So it was with wounded pride that L gripped the edge of the porcelain bowl and _retched_.

Distantly, the detective felt slim fingers scrape his ebony hair back as he emptied his stomach's admittedly small contents (he was only able to consume a brownie, three slices of strawberry cake and a batch of cookies during the night – which is a small snack for him) into the toilet, shoulders shaking from the exertion and his throat burning from the acids travelling up his trachea. He moaned involuntarily, feeling dizzily light headed from the monster headache threatening to evolve into a migraine. "Ugh…"

Those slim fingers were massaging his scalp soothingly now as L's heaving died down, the detective coughing to clear his airways of any leftover bile and groping blindly for the flush on the toilet. Already L felt better, his stomach settling somewhat as he pulled down the flusher and stayed half sprawled over the porcelain bowl. His logical part of his mind did another re-evaluation of his health, noting that this brief respite was only going to last for a few blissful minutes before his stomach rebelled once more. The childish part of his mind told the logical side to shove it. "Raito-kun…" He groaned hoarsely. "I think I am ill."

"No shit, Sherlock." Came the dry response, a wad of toilet paper being offered to him. "Clean up, you're having the day off."

"Gnn…" Not even L knew what his grunt was supposed to convey, accepting the wad of toilet paper and mopped up the 'yuck' from around his mouth. He dumped it in the toilet, wrinkling his nose as the bitter taste invading his mouth and nose. It almost made him want to vomit again. His stomach gurgled. "But Kira-" He protested.

"Can wait." Raito interrupted firmly, entering what L affectionately called 'Mother Mode' (attempting to make L eat healthier, make L sleep more, etc, all insinuated that Raito had maternal instincts buried somewhere inside of him). "You won't be much help clinging to the toilet seat and throwing up all over the place, and…" Raito's fingers moved from wild ebony tresses to the disgruntled insomniac's forehead. "You're running a temperature. You may have the stomach flu."

"Oh joy." L grumbled, resting his forehead against the rim of the porcelain bowl he was hugging. The fingers returned to massaging his scalp and it actually helped with his headache somewhat. "Raito-kun should get comfortable because I do not think I will be moving from this spot anytime soon."

"Ryuuzaki…" Raito sighed. "You'll only make yourself worse if you sit on the cold bathroom floor all day. You need to go to bed and rest." The younger male wrapped an arm round the detective's thin waist, hauling up the lighter body with relative ease. "Man, you're light."

L groaned again, the pressure against his stomach not helping and sagged in Raito's unrelenting clutches. This was degrading, the world's three greatest detective being reduced to needing help from his prime suspect just to _stand_. L made a mental note to wipe this event from his mind and pretend that it never happened once his health was back in the green zone.

Ah, denial was a wonderful thing sometimes.

"I suppose that Raito-kun is l-looking…" L's hand flew to his mouth again and Raito grimaced at the implication. "Is looking for a reward of some kind for this?"

"What are you talking about? This is what friends do, help their friends." Raito sighed, exasperated, and slowly guided the grumbling L from the bathroom out into the hallway. "No strings attached."

"Hm…" L seemed to relax slightly in the younger male's grasp, a subtle sign of defeat – for the moment. "I'll trust Raito-kun with that." He muttered, recognizing the route they were taking. "I will need to contact Watari to bring in my laptop so I co-"

"No." Raito snapped firmly, tightening his grip round the other's waist and eliciting a hiss from the wild haired insomniac. "No working. You'll just make yourself even worse and slow down your recovery. I will tie you down to the bed to make you rest if I have to."

L would blame the comment that came out of his mouth on his illness later on. "I never knew you were that kinky, Raito-kun."

"…" Raito ignored the comment with grace. "I don't want to hear any complaints, Ryuuzaki." The younger male warned sternly, still in Mother Mode, as they finally arrived at their shared bedroom. "And if you're going to throw up, just say, because I don't want vomit all over the bed sheets and floor, okay?"

L's stomach did a flip flop and the detective coughed lightly. "Alright, Raito-kun." He paused. "I am going to throw up."

Raito sighed, muttering something incomprehensible under his breath and practically dragged the insomniac towards the bathroom joined to their shared bedroom, kicking the door open (and ignored the almost slurred declaration of _"ten per cent, Raito-kun"_), leading his sick companion to the toilet.

As expected, L practically hugged it as his stomach lurched, heaving over the porcelain bowl.

Raito grimaced as he scraped back the wild ebony strands from the detective's face, pressing the tips of his fingers into the scalp in an effort to soothe him. With his other hand he tore off some toilet paper and pressed it against the white knuckles of the insomniac, L taking it clumsily and wiping his mouth.

Raito knew that L was not only feeling miserable and ill, but uncomfortable as well for other reasons aside from his impromptu sickness. He knew L liked to be in control, and when that control is wrenched from his hands he immediately becomes anxious and uncomfortable. Throwing up in the bathroom, with your prime suspect stroking your hair and looking after you, did not scream 'control'.

So he decided to hold off the teasing until later.

"Finished?" Raito asked lightly when L rested his forehead against the rim of the toilet for at least a minute.

L turned his head to pin his suspect with a hazed glare, looking completely and utterly _miserable_. "I hope so." He grumbled, turning his face so he was pressing his uncomfortably hot forehead against the cool porcelain. Damn bacteria, damn virus, damn Kira, damn whatever gave him this sickness! It was probably the other detectives walking in from outside, carrying all sorts of microorganisms on their bodies!

L knew he was being silly, irrational even, but at that moment he would've blamed the fucking plunger next to the toilet for his misery if only to make him feel better.

"Come on." Raito murmured soothingly, carefully hauling the sickly detective from the floor and half carried him to the bedroom. He knew that Watari was probably observing the whole situation via security cameras and was on his way with something to ease the insomniac's grief. Hopefully.

God knows an unhappy L is a very cranky L, and a cranky L spells unhappiness for everyone around him.

L practically collapsed on the bed, pressing his face against the softness of his pillow with a sigh. He felt the mattress dip beside him, and the handcuff's chain sprawl over his clothed thigh, as a hand ruffled his ebony tresses. As usual, whenever the younger male touched him, his stomach flipped crazily and his breath caught (something that always put L on edge because he wasn't quite sure what to make of it), but the near affectionate touch filled him with a nice sort of warmth that soothed his agonizing headache and his rebellious stomach.

_Raito has magic hands. _He thought dreamily, forgetting his initial discomfort and misery for the moment as those slim fingers continued to massage and pet him gently. Curled up in fetal position, thumb pressed against his lips, L began to drift off in a state of relaxation, not quite sleep, but not quite awake. He, for once, forgot about the ominous Kira Investigation that always occupied his thoughts and the calculated percentages of Raito being Kira (_twenty per cent? Fifty per cent? Hell, he didn't know anymore_).

It was…nice.

Unknowingly, a small smile tugged at his lips as he began to slip into lala land, a wonderful dream world where everything was made out of chocolate and gingerbread and there was a never ending supply of strawberries. He snuggled into his pillow with a contented sigh; smile growing as Raito was added into his dream.

With bemusement, Raito could only wonder what L was possibly dreaming about to make the normally stoic genius smile like that.

**X.x.X**

Back in the Investigation room, Matsuda noticed something off when he looked up from the documents he was reviewing. "Hey guys…"

Aizawa grunted. "What?"

"Why are Ryuuzaki and Raito taking so long in the bathroom?"

There was silence and everyone turned to Soichirou, who was valiantly ignoring the innuendo hidden in that innocent question.

"We…probably don't want to know, Matsuda."

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**A/N: **Hmmm…maybe I'll continue this one in the next oneshot…oh well.

Ideas are still welcome! Hope y'all enjoyed!


	4. Misunderstanding

**Title: **Shortcakes

**Pairing: **LxRaito

**Rating: **K+

**Disclaimer: **Nuh uh.

**Summary: **Fluffy oneshot series. 4th Oneshot: Misunderstanding: "This is _not_ what it looks like!"LxRaitoxL

**Word Count: **1'670

**A/N: **Yes, a sequel to the last oneshot. Yayz!

Written after my **First Kiss** sequel, even though I said I was going to sleep. Damn insomnia…

Not much to say here except…FLUFF ALERT! FLUFF ALERT!! FLUUUUUUUUFF!! THE FLUUUUUUUFFFFNESS!!

:D

Enjoooooy!

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"_Law of Melee Luminescence: Any being displaying extremely high levels of martial arts prowess and/or violent emotions emits light in the form of a glowing aura. This aura is usually blue for 'Good Guys' and red for 'Bad Guys'. This is attributed to Good being higher in the electromagnetic spectrum than Evil."_

_-- The Forty Six Laws of Anime, Darrin Bright & Ryan Stellito_

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**4****th**** SHORTCAKE: MISUNDERSTANDING**

Raito didn't know whether to be shocked, annoyed, amused or just plain mortified.

When the stubborn detective had drifted off to sleep with a small smile curled round his lips (probably dreaming about candy or catching Kira knowing him), Raito had decided to relax a little as well. So he stayed sitting beside L on the bed, one hand occasionally brushing ebony tresses in a soothing motion like he did when his sister was ill, and the other occupied with a thriller book that he had salvaged from Matsuda a while back and stored it under the bed until a time when he needed it.

But during this moment, L had wriggled about in his sleep and rolled over (tangling himself a little in those annoying handcuffs in the process). Raito, who was unaware of this change, simply turned over a page in his book.

Then L muttered something and suddenly threw his arms around Raito's waist, nuzzling the younger male's hip.

Raito had jumped slightly, blinking rapidly as he tried to figure out what to do about his, er, predicament.

So, he stared down at the sleeping detective, twisting to the side a little and allowing the older male to rest his cheek on his thigh instead of it being pressed semi-uncomfortably against his hip. Setting down the book after marking his page, Raito rested a hand atop of the insomniac's head, threading slim fingers through sleek strands. "Ryuuzaki?" He whispered, just in case L was awake.

L mumbled something incoherent, arms tightening round Raito's waist.

Raito sighed, rolling his eyes heavenward. The detective continued to annoy him even when asleep. Amazing. Absently ruffling L's hair, he allowed the older male to use his thigh as a pillow (as long as he didn't drool on him) and picked up the book again, continuing from where he left off.

Raito flicked a page.

"…awberries…" L randomly muttered, curling his body round Raito and pressing his face into the juncture between Raito's thigh and hip – i.e. dangerously close to his _crotch_.

Raito cleared his throat uncomfortably; resolutely ignoring the warm pliable body pressed against his lower back and lowered his book again. "Ryuuzaki." He said a little louder, tapping the insomniac's hot forehead.

"Mmph…?" Came the garbled answer.

Raito sighed, again, and shook the older male's shoulder awkwardly. "Ryuuzaki…can you, well, _let go_?"

Sluggishly, L raised his head slightly, hazed obsidian eyes blinking fuzzily at the uncomfortable looking Raito. "Let go of what?" He yawned, obsidian eyes drooping again as he nuzzled a rather, ah, _intimate_ region of Raito's anatomy.

"Gck…!" Raito's face flooded with warmth, his blush rivalling that on his bedmate, and shook the older male's shoulder harder. "Let go of _me_." He stressed tightly, eyebrow twitching erratically. Who would've thought that L, the ruler of social retardom, was so damn _clingy_ when ill?

"But I am cold, Raito-kun." L murmured, not realizing where he was nuzzling. "And you are warm."

Feeling that his face was on fire, Raito coughed lightly. "That's just your fever talking, Ryuuzaki. You're not really cold." He carefully raised L's face from his crotch, pressing the back of his hand against the detective's sweaty forehead. "You're actually pretty hot."

"I am cold." L disagreed petulantly, arms tightening round Raito's waist.

Raito heaved a sigh. "Alright…" He glanced to the side, frowning, before easily prising L's grip from around his waist and hefting him up lightly.

"What?" L yelped, involuntarily, as he was suddenly deposited into Raito's lap, one of his suspect's hands stroking his hair and the other holding him in place on his lower back. "Raito-kun?"

"There." Raito grunted, shuffling back on the bed a little, legs crossed awkwardly under the light build of his bedmate. He firmly told himself that this position was much better than the one with L touching some places that shouldn't be touched by another male. "You should be warmer now."

L blinked, his almost invisible shivers dying down from the heavenly warmth of his suspect's body. His obsidian eyes drooped, a low purr emitting from his throat when Raito's 'magic hand' combed his wild tresses gently, fingertips massaging his scalp, and his other rubbed the small of his back. He felt ready to fall asleep again (twice in one day? L decided that being ill was more effective than sleeping pills) and so snuggled against his only source of warmth and prepared to drift off.

Unaware of the series of events that were about to unfold.

**X.x.X**

Soichirou couldn't take it anymore. "I am going to look for Ryuuzaki and my son."

Matsuda looked up, the other investigators shifting awkwardly in their seats. "Uh…Yagami-san…? Maybe we shouldn't do that…" He trailed off, fidgeting with the corner of his documents as he refused to look at the older man.

Aizawa nodded, eyes firmly glued to his own documents. "Yeah, it's probably best not to go looking for them. 'Out of sight, out of mind', as they say."

Twitching, Soichirou stood. "I need to check on them." He almost growled, adamantly ignoring the innuendos hidden in his co-workers voices. "To see if they're…alright."

Matsuda finally peeked at his twitching superior, wondering if he should burst the man's bubble of his son's straightness or not. "Urhm…well…they've been in the bathroom for over two hours…" He mumbled, not liking the aura Soichirou was emitting. "So…I think we should…leave them alone…?"

Mogi nodded in agreement to the young officer's statement turned question.

Soichirou's calm cracked. "They're not doing anything!" He growled, standing up. "And I will prove it!" Then the older man stormed off towards where he knew the other's bedroom was.

The other investigators stared after the irate man.

Aizawa's afro jiggled. "Oh boy…"

**X.x.X**

Raito plucked at the white sweater clinging wetly to the feverish detective, damp from sweat, and frowned in distaste. This wouldn't help L get better at all. "Ryuuzaki." He murmured softly, hearing the half asleep insomniac give a grunt in reply. "I need to take your sweater off. It's not helping you get better."

"But it is keeping me warm, Raito-kun." L argued, twitching when he felt his stomach (which had been behaving thus far) give a rebellious gurgle.

"It is damp, it'll make you worse." Raito shot back, carefully lying L back against the bed and tugged the baggy sweater up. "You need to take the handcuffs off, Ryuuzaki." The younger male stated, realizing a slight snag in his plan.

L huffed, turning his head away and crossing his arms. "Raito-kun's percentage has risen by five per cent."

Raito's eyes narrowed, a dangerous smirk curling round his lips. "Alright then, I guess we're going to do this the hard way then."

Five minutes later, Soichirou walked in.

**X.x.X**

Soichirou was in _shock_.

He had opened the door to L's and Raito's shared bedroom as he faintly heard some voices from there. And what did he see?

L sprawled on the bed, _shirtless_, face flushed and sweaty, obsidian eyes half lidded and lips parted – looking 'sexed up'. And his son, his innocent son, straddling the detective's waist, equally as flushed, unlocked handcuffs in one hand and tossing L's sweater aside with the other, a smirk coiled round his lips.

"You should've just taken it off when I told you to, Ryuuzaki." His son declared smugly.

L groaned, draping an arm over his forehead. "Raito-kun was too rough. I am worn out…" He bemoaned, resting his hand on his suspect's thigh. "And my stomach is-"

Soichirou snapped out of his daze. "What is going on here?!" He shouted, eyes darting between the two males on the bed.

Raito jerked in surprise, sepia eyes blinking rapidly at his father, dropping the handcuffs on the bed. "D-Dad…?" Raito's eyes then widened, obviously comprehending the situation. "No! No, Dad!" He barked, lifting himself up to press all of his weight on the detective's hips, waving his hands in front of him wildly. "It's not what it looks like!"

L sat up as well, leaning back on his hands and unaware of the compromising pose he was in with his suspect. "Yagami-san…?" He asked curiously, looking vaguely confused. "Why are y-"

"Ryuuzaki!" Raito hissed, smacking a hand over the insomniac's mouth in case the feverish man said something that would make the whole thing worse in his careless, blunt manner. Turning to his father, whose face was eerily calm, Raito smiled nervously. "Dad, Ryuuzaki is sick, and his sweater was overheating him but he was being stubborn so I had to force it…off of…him…" He trailed off when he realized how flimsy that sounded.

L pulled Raito's hand from his mouth. "It is true." He agreed, mind finally catching up. "I am very ill and Raito-kun was simply helping me."

Soichirou looked between them, before shaking his head. "Son…" He sighed. "If you are truly…" He paused. "Son," He tried again. "I will accept you no matter what you…prefer…" He forced out. "Even…Ryuuzaki…"

Raito's face was the very epitome of horror. "No! Dad, you misunderstand! I'm not gay! Ryuuzaki really is sick so I-"

"Raito." Soichirou cut in. "I understand. There is no need to defend yourself. I will not be prejudice towards you or Ryuuzaki." Then the bear like man turned and walked out of the room stiffly, looking like he wanted to do nothing more than to hit the nearest bar and never leave until his inebriated mind believed once more that his son was straight.

Ah, denial…

The two male stared at the open door, one looking horrified beyond belief and the other with bored confusion.

Raito groaned suddenly, smacking a hand over his face and pinching the bridge of his nose. "Oh damn it all to hell…" He grumbled. "Why does this shit happen to me?"

"Raito-kun." L tugged on his suspect's wrist, wide obsidian eyes meeting resigned sepia. "I need to go to the bathroom. I think I am going to throw up again."

Raito twitched.

What did he do to deserve this!?

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**A/N: **You can tell I wrote this when I had no sleep for two days. Guh, but I don't wanna change it. I find it quite funny.

Now then. I am going to WHSmith to get that 'Best of Gay Erotica' book that I've been dying to buy for a while. (Cackles) Then I will invade my friend's house to steal her new doujinshi, collapse upon my bed and finally grab some much needed sleep. Fifty hours plus without sleep is not good for ones health…

Because I think my Doritos are talking to me…

DX

Ideas and criticism welcome! Hope y'all enjoyed!


	5. Glasses

**Title: **Shortcakes

**Pairing: **LxRaito

**Rating: **K

**Disclaimer: **I do own glasses, but Death Note? No.

**Summary: **Fluffy oneshot series. 5th Shortcake: Glasses: "They make you look like some eccentric professor actually…" LxRaitoxL

**Word Count:** 1'029

**A/N: **I liked the last two oneshots, for some reason sick!L appeals to me as something incredibly fluffy.

But now, it's time to start on something else. I was gonna do a messenger one, but meh, I couldn't be bothered (so lazy) and decided to write something involving glasses after that doujinshi I recently got :D

Enjoy!

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"_That is the most ridiculous hat I've ever seen. I must have it."_

_-- J.D, Scrubs_

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**5****th**** SHORTCAKE: GLASSES**

L sighed.

Squinting his wide eyes, the detective shuffled on his chair, bare toes curling over the edge as he discreetly leaned forwards, silently ordering his disobedient pupils to focus properly on the black smudges that L presumed to be writing. He rubbed at his eyes, and growled inaudibly as it did nothing to solve his problem.

He knew how to fix it (and so did Watari, as the elderly gentleman kept shooting him furtive glances), but his pride refused to allow him to go with it when he was in the presence of his prime suspect. He ignored his mind snorting how Raito had already seen him ill so that wouldn't wound his pride any more, and shuffled on his seat again.

"Ryuuzaki, stop it." Raito commanded, narrowed eyes glaring at the older man. The younger male had been in a bad mood all day, curled up in his place on the couch muttering to himself about annoying detectives and perverted fathers, occasionally sniffling. "You're annoying me."

"Everything I have done today annoys Raito-kun." L pointed out cattily, giving up on deciphering the black smudges and attacked his strawberry cake instead, munching angrily on the moist sponge. "Eating my cake has annoyed Raito-kun. Biting my thumb has annoyed Raito-kun. Just _breathing_ has annoyed Raito-kun." He stabbed his cake with his fork (which proved to be a harder than usual feat due to the quirky way he held silverware). "So that statement was redundant."

"Someone's grumpy." Raito commented reproachfully, not noticing Watari slowly sneaking out of the room from the imminent catfight. "What's wrong? You too depressed again?"

L growled, dropping his fork on his empty plate and narrowed his obsidian eyes when the metallic grey melded with the white ceramic plate. He blinked in a futile attempt to fix his eyesight. "No. I am not. It is just that the person I am handcuffed to is _aggravating_."

Raito seemed to let go of his anger slightly, glaring suspiciously at the hunched insomniac. "Alright, what's wrong? Was that the last cake in the building or something?"

"No." L snapped, rubbing at his eyes again. At this rate he'd have to call it a night, and it hadn't even reached two in the morning yet! He had already wasted two days worth of work thanks to that illness; he wasn't going to waste anymore! "Just work, Raito-kun."

"Hey." Raito leaned against the arm of the couch, frowning at the detective. "Is there something wrong with your eyes?"

Oh great. Raito's maternal instincts had resurfaced. "No, Raito-kun." L droned flatly, lowering his hand from his eyes to his mouth, nibbling his thumb. "There isn't."

"It's probably because you've been hunched over with your eyes glued to the laptop all day." Raito snorted, turning back to the files in his hand. "You'll damage your eyes like that you idiot."

"I _need_ to be on the laptop for a long period of time to capture Kira, Raito-kun." L snapped, turning back to his laptop to look like he was working, even though he would have better luck materializing cake out of thing air than deciphering the blobs that had replaced words on the glowing screen. "So I cannot help it."

"This is why I tell you to take a break!" Raito growled, abandoning all attempt at reading through the files in his hand to frown at the wild haired detective. "If you take a quick, ten minute break every so often, or just read through data on paper media instead of on the laptop for a day, then you won't damage your eyes."

"Raito-kun is not my mother, nor should he act like he is." L grumbled, closing his eyes as staring at the blurred words was causing a pain behind his eyes to bloom.

"You need someone to act like your mother." Raito muttered. "And your eyes are hurting you. I can tell."

L growled. Paused. Decided that he may as well allow Raito to see another of his weaknesses. "Fine." He grumbled, reaching behind his laptop for a black case, hypersensitive to Raito's suspicious gaze.

There was silence. Then, "Ryuuzaki?"

L turned his attention back to his laptop, the black blobs now recognizable as a human language. "Yes, Raito-kun?"

"…" Raito blinked in bemusement. "You wear _glasses_?"

L turned to his suspect, who no longer looked bad tempered, but rather amused, wide obsidian eyes blinking behind stylish, square rimmed glasses. The detective adjusted them on his nose. "It seems that I do." He turned back to his laptop, biting down on his thumb. "…Laptops do damage your eyes after all, Raito-kun."

Raito smiled, obviously finding something hilarious about the whole deal. "The great L wears glasses. Huh." He turned back to the files in his hand in a better mood. Sepia eyes slid to the side, regarding the insomniac silently. "You know, you should wear them more." He declared suddenly.

"Oh?" L blinked. "And why's that?"

Raito smirked. "Well, for one, it makes your wide eyed, stalker gaze look less creepy. Plus, it _suits_ you." He pressed a finger to his chin, looking up slightly. "In fact, those glasses actually make you look somewhat decent." Raito stared hard at the bemused detective. "Makes you look like some eccentric professor actually."

L blinked again. "Raito-kun thinks I look better with glasses on…?" A pause. "A professor?"

"Yes to both of them." Raito returned back to his notes.

L stared at his suspect for a few more minutes, trying to see how this could be Kira related or why Raito, a bad tempered Raito at that, would compliment him. He couldn't see why. Perhaps it was lack of sleep?

Either way…L adjusted his glasses. What could it hurt?

**X.x.X**

The Task Force were surprised the next day to see L, The World's Greatest Detective, look up from his morning cake with a stylish pair of square rimmed glasses perched on his nose.

Soichirou coughed. "Ryuuzaki…?"

L blinked, and inclined his head towards Raito, who was still half asleep and chugging down his weight in caffeine. "Raito-kun said that he prefers me wearing glasses."

Raito choked on his coffee at the innuendo.

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**A/N: **I had recently acquired a doujinshi (Raw unfortunately, my limited knowledge on Japanese translates it so bad) of a perverted L with very stylish looking square rimmed glasses that just suited him to a T. Thus, this was born.

Hope y'all enjoyed! Sorry it's so short, just a random drabble written down at two in the morning after Family Guy XD


	6. Tangled

**Title: **Shortcakes

**Pairing: **LxRaito

**Rating: **K

**Disclaimer: **I do own glasses, but Death Note? No.

**Summary: **Fluffy oneshot series. 6th Shortcake: Tangled: These things always did happen to Raito. LxRaitoxL

**Word Count: **1'016

**A/N: **This fifteen minute drabble was inspired by ellianmeir's suggestion for using the classic 'complications involving handcuffs' idea. So I did. XD

Mwahahaha! Only 94 more oneshots until I reach the hundred mark. So keep ideas coming in peeps!

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"_You know what? Love isn't blind. It's retarded."_

_-- Charlie, Two and a Half Men_

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**6****th**** SHORTCAKE: TANGLED**

Raito wondered what he did to deserve having a endless slew of bad luck screwing up his life. First he was incarcerated for a month, then he had to go through a mock execution (which gave him a nervous twitch to show for it), and finished up with being _handcuffed_ to the most insufferable, annoying, nosy and socially retarded detective to ever roam the Earth. But he, being the kind and tolerable genius that he was, bore with it, trying to blank out the bad things about the whole ordeal (which was 97 per cent) and focus on the good things about the whole ordeal.

However, Raito could not find _any_ good things to think of in _this_ ordeal.

"Just so you know, Ryuuzaki." Raito growled, amber eyes glaring into those wide obsidian orbs only mere inches from his own. "I blame you for this."

"Duly noted, Raito-kun." L replied, completely unperturbed by their current situation. The detective tried to tug his arm towards him, but only succeeded in digging the thin chain of their handcuffs into his skin through the thin white sweater. "This is rather uncomfortable."

"No shit, Sherlock." Raito snarled, grunting as the insomniac's minute squirming tightened the chain across his back painfully. "Gck…! Stop _moving_!"

L did as he was told, wide eyes blinking owlishly. "But if I don't move, Raito-kun, we won't be able to get out of this predicament." He explained slowly. "And unless one of the members of the Task Force decides to investigate our absence and discovers us in this position, we will be stuck here."

Raito frowned, grudgingly agreeing that being found by Matsuda or, god forbid, his _father_, in this position, tangled up with L at the bottom of the stairs when everyone thinks there was a…_thing_ going on between them, well…Raito just might snap and give even Kira a run for his money on the terms of homicide. "Well, don't squirm like that; you're making the chain dig into my back."

L, who was starting to squirm again, immediately stopped. "Oh, sorry."

"Okay…" Raito turned his head slightly, acutely aware of how close the insomniac's face was to his and able to feel his warm breath ghost over his cheek – he pushed that thought away. Not the time to suffer a sexuality crisis brought on by his father's jumping to conclusions. "So, how about we try it…like…this…"

L grunted when Raito's knee bashed into his shin, both of the tangled males wincing at the pain, but kept any disparaging comments to himself as that movement allowed the boy to tug his foot from the looped metal. "Raito-kun's foot is free." He informed his suspect.

"Good." Raito flexed his leg, the side brushing against L's thigh, and ignored the mild tightening around his hip where the chain winded round over the detective's rump and pressed their crotches together awkwardly. "Now, you try…"

"This…?" L tilted his weight to the side, succeeding in wriggling his arm from the chain and loosening the painful squeeze along Raito's back.

"Yeah."

After a few more minutes of wriggling, grunting and bouts of pains from accidental kneeings and elbowings (and also some intense blushing on Raito's part when their crotches accidentally grinded together at one point), their ingenious escape plan…failed.

"Gah!" Raito thumped the back of his head against the floor. "We're even more tangled up then before!"

"This is rather humiliating." L muttered, his arms pinned to his sides, resting his chin on the younger male's chest.

Raito just groaned, one of his arms wrapped involuntarily round L's lithe waist and his legs tied together with the insomniac's. "More like mortifying." He bemoaned. "Why does crap like this happen to me?"

"Perhaps it's karma, Raito-kun." L snapped, giving his suspect a pointed glare.

"I'm not going to get into a Kira discussion with you right now, Ryuuzaki!" Raito snarled, pinching the detective and feeling a rush of vindictive satisfaction at startling a yelp from the older man. "If you haven't noticed we're kind of in a situation here!"

"If Raito-kun didn't see the need to go on a mass killing spree because of some childish notion of _Justice_!" L snarled back, freeing his hand enough to pinch the younger male back. "Then perhaps Karma wouldn't see the need to inflict disaster upon him and get us into these 'situations'!"

"For the last time!" Raito pinched back viciously. "I'm not Kira!"

"Stop!" L squirmed, huffing in anger at the throbbing pain where Raito's fingers dug into his skin. "Stop…Raito-kun is right; this isn't the time for our squabbles."

"Hmph." Raito glared. "You're only saying that because you know you'd lose."

A muscle twitched in L's jaw, but the detective clutched tightly at his fraying nerves and took a deep breath. "That is untrue. But, doesn't Raito-kun think that getting ourselves untangled take precedent over any arguments?"

"You started it!" Raito snapped childishly, but stopped pinching the older man. "So, what bright idea do you have in getting us untangled?"

L remained silent for a few seconds. "We wait."

"We wait?"

"Yes." L sagged completely against his belligerent suspect, knowing that all blood flow had been cut off to his arms and wriggled his fingers in an attempt to stave off the tingling numbness. "Someone will come eventually."

Raito made an odd wheezing noise. "No! I refuse to be caught in this humiliating position! Especially with _you_ of all people!"

"Five per cent." L sang tauntingly.

"Shut it, Ryuuzaki or I'll pinch you again!"

It was this that Matsuda had stumbled across when he was voted to go in search for the missing detective and his suspect, the young officer not sure what to think at seeing the most intelligent people on the case tangled up in their handcuff chain, pinching and shouting at each other like a pair of five year olds.

"Uh…guys?" Matsuda ventured tentatively.

"What!?" The two barked simultaneously, pinning the frantically sweating officer with venomous glares.

"Uh…" Matsuda swallowed.

Needless to say, that incident was quickly labelled as 'To Be Never Spoken About Ever Again'.

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**A/N: **Yaaay! Rushed ending! XD

Hope y'all enjoyed!


	7. Sleep

**Title: **Shortcakes

**Pairing: **LxRaito

**Rating: **T

**Disclaimer: **I do own glasses, but Death Note? No.

**Summary: **Fluffy oneshot series. 7th Shortcake: Sleep: L had always seemed oddly awkward when 'sleeping'. LxRaitoxL

**Word Count: **755 words

**A/N: **I've been napping a lot lately, and this just randomly popped into my head. Sorry for the delay!

Lol! Enjoy!

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"_Who's pickle is this!?"_

_-- Lois, Family Guy_

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**7****th**** SHORTCAKE: SLEEP**

Raito could count on one hand the amount of times he had seen L sleep. Aside from the embarrassing memory of the detective curled around him, clutching round his waist in an attempt to stave off imaginary cold brought on by his fever, L had always seemed oddly awkward when 'sleeping'.

Very much like now.

The Task Force were gone, the clock already ticking merrily towards two in the morning, and Raito was ready to use the pile of folders he was supposed to be reading through as a pillow and be done with it all. However, as he had turned to his captor with the intention to complain until his demands for a bed and blanket were met, the words had died on his tongue at seeing the insomniac man hunched over in his seat, out cold and in an awkward position.

Raito clucked his tongue disapprovingly, remembering that L had been chugging along through the nights without rest on nothing but sheer will and cans of energy drinks. It was no surprise to him to see that L had randomly passed out from exhaustion in the middle of his laptop loading a page on some mess of information and numbers.

L was slumped almost to one side on his chair, arms wrapped loosely round his knees and his cheek pressed against the coarse faded fabric of his jeans, which would assuredly leave a patterned groove on the milky white skin. All in all, Raito knew that when L woke up later, he was going to have a serious crick in his neck, which, in the young genius's opinion, served him right.

Raito took this chance to softly lower his folders onto the table before him and stretch, groaning under his breath when his muscles screamed in protest and his joints cracked loudly in the empty and eerily silent room. He flinched, tired amber eyes flicking to the detective, but relaxed when it was apparent that nothing short of a fog horn blaring directly in L's ear would rouse the dark haired man.

Raito scrutinised his captor's face. The detective's mouth was oddly pinched, tense lines carved into the youthful but gaunt face as L's eyelids fluttered occasionally, the older man obviously entering the REM stages of sleep. Raito wondered if he was having a bad dream of some sort, but shrugged it off. Perhaps he was in a world where there was no confectionary, or white sweaters and jeans were outlawed by the government.

Raito pushed himself shakily to his feet; bending slightly and rubbing his thighs where the rush of blood flow to his legs made his skin prickle uncomfortably. He twirled his fingers habitually around the silver links of his handcuff chain and frowned, just realising a vital problem.

How the hell was he going to get to a proper bed with L acting as deadweight?

If L was any sane, _ordinary_ human being, Raito would've nudged him awake and then they could go to bed, because a sane, _ordinary_ human being would realise that if they're falling asleep at their work stations, they'd be essentially useless until they got some sleep. Unfortunately, L was not a sane, _ordinary_ human being, but rather a crazy, irrational alien that tried oh so hard to blend in, but failed miserably.

Raito groaned and rolled his shoulders, eyeing the curled up male on the uncomfortable computer chair with annoyance. Well, there was one way to do it, and Raito would do it with no qualms if only there wasn't the matter of cameras.

He frowned. There were already rumours going on about him and L (courtesy of his loving and _understanding_ father – and fuelled by L's obliviousness), and only Watari would look at them…unless the elderly butler was a secret gossip queen (and _that_ brought up horrible images), what Raito was about to do would never grace the knowledge of the Task Force or L himself…hopefully.

Rolling his shoulders again, Raito marched forwards and frowned at his unconscious captor, eyes crossing momentarily before the young genius scooped down and awkwardly corralled L into his arms, bridal style, making sure not to get tangled up by the chain between them in the process.

"You are a thorn in my side, Ryuuzaki." Raito grumbled to the asleep detective, adjusting the thin – almost worryingly _frail_ – dark haired man in his arms and walking towards their shared room, most of his mind focused on a nice, warm bed.

Raito didn't notice L's pained expression ease.

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**A/N: **That's actually an introduction to a fluffy scene muuuuuuuch later in the story.

Well, hope y'all enjoyed!


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